


Mama Said There'll Be Days Like This

by ifwallscouldspeak



Category: SKAM (Spain)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwallscouldspeak/pseuds/ifwallscouldspeak
Summary: Cris and Dani’s mother’s 50th birthday dinner doesn’t exactly go as planned. But then again, does anything ever? (inspired by Skamofcolor’s International Translation Day Event, Day 6: Sobremesa).





	Mama Said There'll Be Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Skamofcolor's International Translation Day Event, Day 6: Sobremesa (The time spent after lunch or dinner socializing with the people you shared the meal with).
> 
> I do not own Skam España, all errors are completely my fault though! Title comes from The Shirelles's "Mama Said."

+++

Despite Cris’s best efforts to keep her composure, things start going downhill five minutes into arriving to her mother’s fiftieth birthday party. She’s not sure why she’s so surprised; going in, she’d prepared herself for all the ways the night could, and would, go wrong. 

“And this is my daughter, Cristina,” her mother says stiffly, “And Joana. Joana is… her roommate.”

Cris stares at her mother, her face feeling warm within a matter of seconds. Her mother’s coworker nods politely and mentions something about how costly rent is nowadays, and how hard it must be for single women to find affordable housing. Joana’s fingertips dig into Cris’s lower back, either in comfort or in warning. Whichever one it is, Cris decides to ignore it. Usually, she can keep her cool; she's matured enough since high school. But there's just something about her mother that just catches her off guard, no matter how much she prepares herself. 

“Yeah, it’s really bad out there,” Cris says, smiling with all of her teeth. “That’s why calling us ‘bedmates’ is probably more accurate. Sharing a bed also helps cut down on heating costs. Cuddling and all that for body heat. Naked cuddling.”

Cris’s mother shoots her a look that would kill her on the spot if she hadn’t grown up with such withering gazes. Joana’s fingers dig even deeper into her skin, Cris feeling every imprint with her backless dress. Her mother’s coworker stutters for a moment before excusing herself to the open bar. 

“I know you’re all…” her mother makes a hand gesture that’s a bit hard to interpret, “but if you could, for once, Cristina, not cause a scene?”

She floats away before Cris can say anything else, so Cris settles for flipping her long hair over her shoulder. Joana sighs, her palm flattening against Cris’s back to rub it in a soothing gesture.

“Cris,” Joana says.

Cris glares at her. “What? We’ve been dating for ten years. You can’t tell me you’re okay with still being referred to as my roommate!” 

“You promised both me and Amira that you’d keep your attitude civil,” Joana reminds her. “And for the record, no, I hate it, but I also want you to have a relationship with your mother, so.”

“And again, I ask you, do I really need that when I have your mother?” Cris groans. “Your sweet, thoughtful, not violently homophobic mother?”

“Your mom’s not violently homophobic,” Joana says. “Just… casually homophobic.”

Cris checks her with her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, I need a drink.”

“Only as long as you can hold your tongue,” Joana smirks.

Cris winks. “If I promise to do that now, will you do it later?” 

+++

Cris does not hold her tongue, but if anyone asked her about it later, she would one hundred percent say it was justifiable.

Dani spits the croqueta out into his napkin, face turning as red as a tomato as he coughs. Amira places her hand on his arm in concern. Joana turns to flag down a waiter, asking for a glass of water with no ice. 

“Dani?” Amira asks, bewildered. 

“That’s not chicken,” he says. “It’s crab. Why would she say it’s chicken when it’s not chicken? It’s crab. That one hundred percent is crab.”

Amira furrows her brow. “Look, I’m sure the waitress just made a mistake, it’s easy enough to make -”

“Nuh uh,” Cris says, slamming her small plate full of hors d'oeuvres down on the table. “This is on purpose!”

Amira and Joanna shoot her twin looks of disbelief and resignation as a waiter comes up, passing Dani a glass of water. Dani drinks the water slowly, as Amira delicately places the half-chewed croqueta and napkin on the waiter’s tray.

“Cris,” Amira says, “whatever it is you’re thinking -”

“Why are you framing it like that? You know exactly what I’m thinking!”

Amira tilts her head with a sigh. “I do, and I refuse to believe that your mother instructed her wait staff to tell everyone that the croquetas are chicken instead of crab in some half-hearted, spiteful effort to get Dani -”

“And you,” Cris says darkly.

“Dani and I to eat something that we’re both allergic to,” Amira says. “Do you realize how outlandish that sounds?”

“Outlandish? Yes,” Cris says. “Outlandish and exactly like our mother!”

“Come on, Cris,” Dani frowns at her. “In all the years we’ve known Amira, has mom ever tried to give her something she can’t eat? Ever?”

Cris purses her lips. “Well, no. But that was before she ‘bewitched and converted’ you!”

“Cris!” Joana groans.

“That’s not me!” Cris insists. “That’s a direct quote! Remember, right before the wedding?”

“Cris,” Dani groans.

Cris gestures to his plate of food. “And what else is secretly masquerading in there? What if the soup is just liquor! What if the next chicken is actually pork!”

“Mom assured me that almost everything was halal, and that Amira and I can eat basically everything,” Dani says with an eye roll. “And anyway, the waitress must’ve just made a small mistake -”

“Oh? And why don’t we just ask her again?” Cris says. “Mama! Mama!”

Cris starts waving her arm around wildly, screeching for her mother. A few other guests turn and give her a strange look before heading back to their conversations. Across the room, she spots her dad and one of her older brothers, Tomás, frowning at her. She ignores them as her mother practically sprints over to the group, face drawn tightly.

“Cristina, would it really be so impossible for you to behave decorously?” she hisses.

“Dani just ate shellfish, because one of your servers told him it was chicken!” Cris says. “Would it be so impossible for you to remember the dietary restrictions of your family members!”

Cris’s mom’s mouth drops. “But - no!”

“But, yes,” Cris says.

Dani hurriedly says, “I think there was a small understanding, Mama. The croquetas?”

Cris’s mom looks bewildered and horrified. “But those are all crab! I distinctly told the wait staff that they were the only shellfish options on the menu, and to make sure that people knew -”

“Sure,” Cris mutters under her breath.

“It’s fine, I’m sure it was an honest mistake,” Amira says.

“I’ll talk to them again,” Cris’s mother says. “Dani, I’m so sorry honey.”

“Just like you were sorry when -” Cris starts to say.

She’s cut off by Amira, who discreetly elbows Cris in the ribcage. When Cris starts wheezing, Joana wacks her on the back hard, and mentions something about needing water when food goes down the wrong pipe.

“There was nothing in my mouth,” Cris mutters.

+++

Halfway into the dinner course, Cris cannot take any more of Juan Miguel’s rambling. On a regular evening, she certainly wouldn’t care about the stock market ups and downs, but she especially doesn’t care about them now. Not when, for some Godforsaken reason, her mother has sat her at a table full of her brothers’ single, male friends and her parents’ single, young, and male coworkers while Joana, Dani, and Amira are on the other side of the dining room. She had spent the first fifteen minutes trying to smile and not stab at her entree, but enough is fucking enough.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Cris says suddenly, standing up. 

Juan Miguel blinks like he’s coming out of some kind of trance. “Pardon me?”

“I believe I was assigned to the wrong table,” Cris says through a forced smile.

She swallows down the rest of her white wine in one gulp, before slamming it back down. Then, she gathers her silverware and places it on her plate, before picking up her half-eaten fish. She ignores all of the bewildered stares at the table and marches towards the corner table where Joana, Dani, and Amira have been tucked into. As she passes by the table where her parents and the rest of her brothers are sitting, she resolutely does not stick her tongue out at her mother.

“Cris?” Joana asks, voice a little too high, once Cris reaches them.

Cris stares down at the young, pretty handsome guy that she’s sure is also single and sitting right next to Joana. He pauses, looking back up at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Amira shaking. Even though Cris knows she’s beginning to laugh hysterically, Dani makes a choking noise and pats her on the back. He pulls Amira in closer to him, forming a sort of a huddle around her body. 

“Uhm - you know, these kinds of family things just make her so emotional,” Dani lies as he tries to shield Amira’s laughter from the rest of the confused guests at the table. “To the point of, uhm, tears.”

“So emotional,” Amira chokes out, the laughter evident in her voice.

“Sorry, friend, but you’re in my seat,” Cris says to the interloper.

He gently places his fork down, looking confused. “I’m sorry?”

“This is my brother, my best friend, and my girlfriend,” Cris says. “So I’m going to assume that I’m meant to be sitting here.”

“Uhm,” the man starts to pink. “Well, I - uhm, that is, the place card said ‘Chris,’ and I’m Chris -”

“Oh, what a coincidence,” Cris grins ferally. “I’m also Cris.”

“It’s true,” Joana says. “She’s also Cris.”

“Oh,” Chris says.

Cris hooks her foot around one of the legs of his chair, and yanks at it. The chair scratches across the floor with a loud whine, causing a few people around them to wince. Chris’s face turns redder by the second, and he grabs onto his napkin and crumples it. Cris leans down so that her face is on his level, and smiles at him.

“So let’s just assume that the person who put out the place cards made a mistake and meant to sit me here, Chris,” she says. 

“R-right,” Chris says, scrambling to his feet. 

He grabs his plate and makes a beeline away from the table. 

“Oh,” Cris says casually as she drops into his seat. “I didn’t get a chance to tell him where I was at.”

She casually rearranges her silverware onto the place mat, adjusting her plate just so. Amira’s muffled chortles reach her ears, and she ignores the horrified stares by everyone else at the table. When she glances at Dani, his face is pressed into Amira’s hijab, and his body is also shaking with laughter. She smiles at the sight, before looking over at Joana. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears and her mouth trembles like she’s going to break into laughter any minute now.

“Yes, my love?” Cris asks.

Joana lifts up Cris’s hand and presses a reverent kiss to the back of it. “My dear, never change.”

+++

When all’s said and done, Cris bows to the pressure of not ruining her mother’s night with her speech.

“Although some might describe our relationship like oil and water,” Cris says into the microphone, “I would say that we’re more like oil and vinegar. Maybe they don’t always go together naturally, but together they make something quite good to dunk your bread into.”

That gets her a round of laughs from the crowd, and a supportive hand squeeze from Joana. Cris looks across the hall to her mother, who just shakes her head with a small, but perceptible, smile on her face. It could be that most of the faux pas - as Amira would put them - tonight were honest mistakes. But it could also be just like her mother, always with the microaggressions and then expecting Cris to just glaze over them. But despite what her loved ones may think, Cris has been letting a lot of things go. Mostly. A few. Therapy definitely has been helping. 

“So, here’s to you, Mama. We all love you, even when you’re about as sweet as vinegar,” she says saccharinely. “Happy birthday!”

Everyone raises their glass together, toasting her mother in a chorus of ‘happy birthdays.’ As the waitstaff begins to cut and pass out slices of cake, Cris excuses herself to head to the bathroom. When she passes by Chris and Juan Miguel on the way, she crosses her eyes at them as she goes. She hears one of them start choking in response, and smiles to herself.

“Cris! Cris!” Amira’s voice calls out to her once she reaches the bathroom.

Cris turns around, waiting for her friend to get to her before going inside. Amira leans against the sink as Cris slinks into one of the stalls, wiggling her dress up so she can use the bathroom.

“You okay?” Amira asks.

Cris snorts. “Yes, I’m okay. Despite popular opinion, I’m capable of saying nice things about my mother without hurting myself.”

“No, no,” Amira says. “Though I am surprised that lightning didn’t strike you with some of your more… exaggerated truths.”

Cris laughs as she pees. “Why Amira, was that a joke about God striking me down for lying?”

“All I’m saying is, I know for a fact it was your dad who did your pigtails in kindergarten,” Amira says. “I know, because I was there.”

“It’s the best feel-good story I could think of,” Cris says.

“I’m sure,” Amira says. “But - you know. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Cris finishes up, waiting until the flush finishes before answering. “Yeah, I am. But are you?”

She opens the stall door to Amira’s surprised face. Cris cocks an eyebrow at her as she goes to the sink to wash her hands.

“You know me, but I also know you, Mrs. Soto,” Cris says. “All that stuff you were saying to my mom and her boss about family and tradition and celebrating your elders? Hah! I know you did it just to get under her skin. It’s like we’re sixteen all over again, in my kitchen.”

Amira snorts. “Okay, okay. I couldn’t resist.”

Cris says, “I know, and I love you for it. But I know it also hurts you.”

"Of course it does, but it is what it is," Amira sighs. “You try so hard, Dani tries so hard, and your mother… stays stubborn. If she can’t fully accept me and Joana, well. It’s her loss because we all have each other.”

Cris finishes washing her hands, and leans her head into Amira’s shoulder. 

“I just hate it.”

Amira says, “me too.”

“And I know you’re right, it’s her loss. But girl, you know how I am. And I just wish she’d get over herself.”

She dries her hands, and then she and Amira leave the bathroom, arm in arm. As they step out into the foyer, Joana and Dani are standing there, waiting for them with their jackets and bags.

“And what’s this?” Amira says, a smile blossoming onto her face.

“Our escape plan,” Joana says. “To get some real food.”

“And to actually have a good time,” Dani adds. 

Cris only half jokes, “you had me at ‘escape.’”

+++

“Oh God,” Cris moans. “Will someone take this away from me, please?”

Dani starts to reach for the triple chocolate cake in front of her, but Cris gently stabs his hand with her fork. 

“Ouch!”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Cris says, protectively bringing the cake back to her.

Amira snorts, reaching over to stick her fork into the cake. After taking a huge piece, she shares a little with Dani before eating the rest. He pretends to glower at Cris, but doesn’t comment. She knows that he knows by now best friend privilege always trumps brother rights.

Cris curls her feet up underneath her, her high heels long forgotten on the floor of the restaurant. She leans into Joana in their cozy booth, resting her head on her girlfriend’s neck. Joana’s arm is around her shoulders and she squeezes just for a moment, before dropping a kiss on Cris’s forehead.

“So altogether, a successful night, no?” Amira smiles. 

Joana openly laughs at her, and Dani grins at her like she’s hung the stars. Cris interrupts him before he can playfully argue with her, though.

“No, no, Amy’s right,” she says. “No one died, no one got sent to the hospital despite Mama’s best efforts -”

“Truly, Cris, I think we all believe that was an accident -” 

“And we managed to sneak out without anyone getting drunk and giving her real speech.”

“Why say ‘her’?” Dani smirks. “We all know it’s you.”

“Anyway, I agree, it was a good night,” Cris says. “And thank God it’s the last major family event before Christmas.”

Everyone laughs, but Cris catches knowing glance that Dani and Amira throw each other. She narrows her eyes at them, sitting up in the booth again.

“Wait, what was that look?” She asks.

Amira rolls her eyes. “What look?”

“I saw it, that little spousal look,” Cris says. “What does that mean?”

Dani sighs, and looks at Amira again. She squints at Cris for a moment, before looking back at Dani and nodding. He passes her purse over to her.

“What does that mean?” Joana murmurs.

Amira rummages through her bag. “Well, we knew tonight would be a little rough for you, so we got you a present.”

Cris blinks is surprise. “Me?”

“No, Tomás,” Dani says. “Yes, you.”

“Idiot,” Amira mutters, before pulling out a small package and setting it on the table.

Cris smiles warmly at both of them, a melting feeling spreading across her ribs up to her heart. She reaches for the gift, and rips the wrapping paper off. It’s a small white box; using her nails to cut the tape off, she manages to open it in under fifteen seconds flat.

“Very impressive,” Joana says.

Cris opens the box up, at first not comprehending what’s inside. But as she continues to stare at the tiny pair of sneakers, her vision begins to blur. It’s only after she hears Joana laughing with joy and the wetness on her own cheeks that she can even begin to speak.

“No!” She says.

She wipes at her face, glancing up at Dani and Amira, they’re holding hands and beaming back at her. Amira’s eyes are rimmed red with unshed tears as she hiccups and laughs, and Dani is already crying, his face red just like Cris’s. He’s nodding enthusiastically at her. Cris picks up the infant shoes and cradles them gently, pressing into Joana with happiness.

“A baby?” Cris says with wonder. “You guys are gonna be parents!”

“Surprise, Auntie!” Amira’s voice cracks.

“Oh my God!” Cris says.

She leaps up and out of the booth, tugging on Joana to follow her as she does. Dani and Amira meet her halfway, and then they’re all standing up and hugging, a mess of arms and tears and genuine love. Cris presses her face into Amira’s neck as she openly sobs, still clutching the baby shoes even with her arms wrapped around Dani and Joana.

“Mom and Dad!” She cries. “I can’t believe it! I’m so! I’m so happy!”

“We are too,” Amira sniffles. “As soon as I found out I wanted to tell you. But the doctor said to wait until the first trimester was over.” 

“Congratulations, you guys,” Joana grins. “I don’t know anyone who will make better parents.”

“And you two will be the best aunts,” Dani beams.

Cris pulls away from the hug, sniffling. “And you know what? No matter the gender, Cris is an excellent name for the baby.”

Amira laughs, and Cris’s whole world lights up.

Because this night?

Definitely, definitely a good night. 

+++


End file.
